"I'm Not Calling You a Liar" (Blair, Blair/Dan, Blair/Chuck) PG-13
Title: “I’m Not Calling You a Liar”
Author: Lila
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Blair
Spoiler: “The Return of the Ring”
Length: one-shot
Summary: Blair can’t live her dream when she’s chasing someone else’s.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs.
Author’s Note: So this happened:
- I quit my job
- I found a new job
- There’s a boy
- I wasn’t thrilled with whatever the writers did to Klaus
- I DESPISED what the writers did to Blair
- I’ve had about thirty seconds of free time a week since February
So to make a long story short: I know I should be working on “Paradise Circus,” and I am, albeit rather slowly, but I had to write this first. Because I loved Blair long before I loved Caroline and Klaus, and I need to deal with whatever it is the writers did to her. So fic, the fallout of the finale. Title and cut courtesy of Florence and the Machine . Enjoy.
~ * ~
I. I’m not calling you a liar, just don’t lie to me…
Chuck swears it will be different this time.
Bart has shown his true colors, he’s out from under his father’s thumb, and Blair is eager to believe the lie.
It was easier then, that first time, and the second and third, even if it hurt more. Back then, it was only her heart that was broken. It’s not hard to fall back into the past when it feels so familiar.
She buys a dress, ditches her plans, follows a man across the world.
She wore jewels the first time she lost herself, buried her heart beneath a bodice of gold and glitter; she did it all over again with tiaras gleaming in her eyes. The sparkle of her dress rivals the twinkle of the chandeliers and champagne, and she’s not sure which blinds her more.
Jack appears at her elbow, meets her gaze with a dark, calculating stare.
His eyes are blue where Chuck’s eyes are brown, but all Bass eyes are the same: they see through her like she’s not really there.
---
II. I’m not calling you a thief, just don’t steal from me…
---
Blair closes her eyes, pulls down her eye mask and blots out the hum of the engine and flight attendant pouring Chuck a fresh scotch.
It’s Baden-Baden this week, another nail in Bart’s coffin, another win for Team Chuck. When he handed her the ticket, she kissed his cheek and bought another dress. It wasn’t until she paid that she realized it was one of her mother’s.
The dress is blue silk, long-sleeved and high-necked, with a train that trails behind like an ebbing tide. She hadn’t recognized it or its sisters, the cocktail dresses and ball gowns that all bore her mother’s name. Her cheeks had flamed even though no one else could recognize her mistake.
It had made her secure in her decision, giving up a dream that was handed to her for the dream she wanted, because velvet and satin can’t replace seeing Chuck smile. She pushes up the mask and turns to him, slips her fingers between his and squeezes hard.
He glances up from the file he’s reading and presses his mouth to her knuckles, his lips soft and warm against her skin. She smiles, secure in her decision, but his smile never reaches his eyes. They’re dark and calculating, watching her but thinking of everything else: his father, his uncle, vengeance, revenge.
She tugs her hand away and pulls the mask back down, disappears into the waiting blackness.
In the dark, it’s easier to forget that saving Chuck meant giving him all she had left.
---
III. I’m not calling you a ghost, just stop haunting me…
---
Blair was blindfolded the first time she and Chuck had sex.
There were scarves at her wrists and ankles binding her tight, keeping her in her place.
Chuck’s touch was gentle, his fingers brushing feather light over her skin, his tongue trailing wetly over the curve of her hip. She’d arched against her restraints and Chuck’s grip had tightened; she’d writhed and he had slid between her thighs.
His body had felt strange, softer and rounder, and she couldn’t quite spread her legs wide enough for him to fit until he loosened the straps at her ankles and she’d drawn her knees up to let him in.
He’d felt the same and different, the way he’d fit inside her and knew just where to touch or where to press his mouth. He’d moved slowly then quickly, varied his pace so her breath caught in her lungs and he could whisper his love against the column o f her throat.
She’d been close, so exquisitely close, when the memory had flashed through her mind, unwanted but unavoidable.
It was morning, one of those bright, brilliant days where the sun highlighted every bristle of stubble coating Dan’s jaw and she was terrified of how well-magnified her pores probably were, but none of it really mattered because she’d been sitting in Dan’s lap, ankles locked tight around his back, knees firmly pressed against the straight line of his waist.
She’d moved her hips slightly, just the barest fraction of an inch, smiling at the groan that escaped his mouth, the way he’d swelled inside her and his fingers had tightened on her hips.
Mostly, she’d been staring into his eyes, dark and warm and shimmering with feelings she wasn’t ready for, and then she was drowning in those eyes, drowning, drowning, drowning…
She’d still been shuddering when Chuck untied the blindfold and she’d opened her eyes to blink at the beam of moonlight slipping through a crack in the curtains. Chuck had been sprawled atop of her, his sweaty hair tickling her neck. With her wrists still bound, she’d still managed to smile at him even as she lost feeling in her hands.
“It’s as good as I remembered,” Chuck had whispered, finally loosening all the scarves. He’d rolled to his side and taken her with him, pressed his chest against her back while cradling her in his arms.
He’d told her again that he loved her, needed her more than ever, but it had been hard to concentrate on his promises when her fingers had tingled with a thousand pins and needles.
But really, she’d been grateful for the distraction.
It hadn’t been Chuck’s dark eyes that had made her fly.
---
IV. There’s a ghost in my lungs…
---
They run into Dan in Milan.
He’s doing research, Chuck is buying her yet another dress, but the encounter is no less awkward.
Europe has been good to Dan Humphrey. His hair is shorter, his pants tighter, his skin a shade darker, but it’s his eyes that Blair doesn’t recognize: dark, deep, haunted, lost.
She did that, she knows she did, and she’s grateful for Chuck’s arm around her waist because she feels a bit faint.
Dan sighs heavily as they approach and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I should have known there’s no place I could go where you wouldn’t find me.”
Chuck smirks but Blair stares, tries to figure out what to say. He told her that he loved her and she ended their relationship without a word of goodbye. There’s no Emily Post quick-fix for a mess like this.
“Can we get coffee?” she finally says only to be met with another sigh.
She nudges Chuck and his arm slips from her waist. “I have a call,” he announces and kisses her goodbye. He’s not the Chuck of old and it’s just a brush of his mouth over hers, but Dan is still staring at his shoes when Chuck pulls away.
They stand in place, staring at each other, until he sighs yet again. “Come on,” he says. “I know a place.”
He orders them espresso and she grimaces as she takes a sip. It’s harsh and bitter, not unlike the way Dan’s looking at her. “What do you want, Blair?” he asks. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, just spins her coffee cup around on its saucer and watches him watch her. The longer she stares, the more sadness seeps into his gaze until he runs a hand over his eyes and sighs louder than before. “Blair, I can’t do this anymore.” He reaches for his wallet but she’s faster and her fingers are locking around his wrist before he can dig into his pocket.
They both freeze, turn their attention to the pale fingers resting on the tanned skin of his forearm. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. His skin is warm against hers and she resists the urge to turn his wrist, press her fingers to the jumping pulse in his wrist, feel the heart that once only beat for her.
Dan flinches but doesn’t pull away, just stares at the spot where her skin melts into his. “You didn’t even say goodbye,” he finally says. “It was one thing to run to Chuck, but…I deserved a goodbye. I deserved to know what went wrong.” He jerks his wrist away and folds his arms over his chest. The sadness is gone from his eyes to be replaced with a bright, burning blaze.
“I…” she starts but can’t put the truth into words: I got the chance to be strong but was too scared. It was too much without you.
He shakes his head in disgust. “Well, I’m glad we could have this conversation.” This time, when he reaches for his wallet she doesn’t stop him. He throws down a few bills and starts to walk away but turns back before he gets far. She’s not surprised; she’s always been the one to leave him behind. “It didn’t work, you know.”
“Dan,” she replies. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You tried to make me into him,” he says and this time she’s the one to flinch. “I cheated on you with Serena,” he tells her. “I wrote a book exposing you all for what you truly are. It’s sitting on my flashdrive and Alessandra emails me about it every day. I’ve attached the manuscript so many times but every time my finger hovers over the send button I just can’t do it.”
“Why?”
He reaches over and brushes her hair back from her face and for a moment he’s so close she thinks he might kiss her. She even tilts her chin up a bit, waits for the feel of his mouth on hers. He steps back instead, smiles sadly as he clasps his hands behind his back. “I know you love Chuck more than you could ever love me, but despite my best efforts, my feelings haven’t changed. I only want you to be happy even if it’s not with me.”
He turns on his heel before she can respond, leaves her behind with cold coffee and the lingering weight of regret.
It’s not about loving Chuck too much. It’s about not loving herself enough.
---
V. I love you so much I’m gonna let you…
---
Blair leaves in Moscow.
Chuck is already watching the roulette wheel spin and she’s supposed to meet him downstairs.
Her dress is purple tonight, long and full, with thin straps and sparkle woven into the flowing skirt. She tugs on the zipper but it’s stuck and the more she tugs, the more the jeweled straps dig into her shoulders.
She glances at herself in the mirror and catches the wink of the diamonds at her throat, the glimmer of the amethysts in her hair.
Before she knows what she’s doing, the dress is in shreds in her hands and she’s calling her mother and begging for a second chance.
Her bags are packed and her ticket booked when a valet fetches Chuck. His brow is knotted in concern, but his eyes are imagining odds and evens falling on red and black.
“Blair, what’s wrong?” he asks, stops short when he notices the suitcases and traveling dress she’s wearing. “Where are you going?”
She wraps her arms tight around her middle, keeps it together while she ends it all. “I’m going home.”
Chuck’s eyes flash and his mouth twists. “This is about Humphrey, isn’t it?”
She flinches because he’s not wrong. Her entire life has been about drifting one from man’s dreams to another’s. There’s no reason to think she’s not continuing the pattern. “More like 119th and Broadway.”
“I don’t understand.”
She feels a bit more confident and drops her hands to her sides. “I’m going to run Waldorf Designs, but not just yet. I need to finish college first, get experience, understand what a business is all about.”
Chuck takes a step forward, wraps her hands in his. “School doesn’t start until September and I need you here.”
She tugs her hands away and clasps them behind her back. If he keeps touching her, she’ll never be able to walk away. “I should never have come. This is your dream, Chuck, but it’s not mine.”
“I never asked you to come,” he reminds her.
She nods, even manages a smile. “That’s something else I need to work on. I can’t keep taking care of other people until I can take care of myself.”
“What can I do to make you stay?”
Blair is the one to walk forward, kiss him lightly on the cheek before she leaves him behind. “You can love me enough to let me go.”
He kisses her, hard and desperate, like they’re still sixteen. It’s not until he pulls away, eyes dark and wet, that she realizes she still is.
No matter the passage of time, she’s still the girl who lets men choose her dreams.
---
VI. Go on…
---
Blair texts Dan on the tarmac.
“I couldn’t love you until I loved myself.”
There’s a reply waiting when the plane lands.
“You’ll be surprised to find how easy you are to love.”
She laughs and decides it’s time to prove him right.
~ * ~
Writers live for feedback - please leave some if you have the time.
Author: Lila
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Blair
Spoiler: “The Return of the Ring”
Length: one-shot
Summary: Blair can’t live her dream when she’s chasing someone else’s.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs.
Author’s Note: So this happened:
- I quit my job
- I found a new job
- There’s a boy
- I wasn’t thrilled with whatever the writers did to Klaus
- I DESPISED what the writers did to Blair
- I’ve had about thirty seconds of free time a week since February
So to make a long story short: I know I should be working on “Paradise Circus,” and I am, albeit rather slowly, but I had to write this first. Because I loved Blair long before I loved Caroline and Klaus, and I need to deal with whatever it is the writers did to her. So fic, the fallout of the finale. Title and cut courtesy of Florence and the Machine . Enjoy.
~ * ~
I. I’m not calling you a liar, just don’t lie to me…
Chuck swears it will be different this time.
Bart has shown his true colors, he’s out from under his father’s thumb, and Blair is eager to believe the lie.
It was easier then, that first time, and the second and third, even if it hurt more. Back then, it was only her heart that was broken. It’s not hard to fall back into the past when it feels so familiar.
She buys a dress, ditches her plans, follows a man across the world.
She wore jewels the first time she lost herself, buried her heart beneath a bodice of gold and glitter; she did it all over again with tiaras gleaming in her eyes. The sparkle of her dress rivals the twinkle of the chandeliers and champagne, and she’s not sure which blinds her more.
Jack appears at her elbow, meets her gaze with a dark, calculating stare.
His eyes are blue where Chuck’s eyes are brown, but all Bass eyes are the same: they see through her like she’s not really there.
---
II. I’m not calling you a thief, just don’t steal from me…
---
Blair closes her eyes, pulls down her eye mask and blots out the hum of the engine and flight attendant pouring Chuck a fresh scotch.
It’s Baden-Baden this week, another nail in Bart’s coffin, another win for Team Chuck. When he handed her the ticket, she kissed his cheek and bought another dress. It wasn’t until she paid that she realized it was one of her mother’s.
The dress is blue silk, long-sleeved and high-necked, with a train that trails behind like an ebbing tide. She hadn’t recognized it or its sisters, the cocktail dresses and ball gowns that all bore her mother’s name. Her cheeks had flamed even though no one else could recognize her mistake.
It had made her secure in her decision, giving up a dream that was handed to her for the dream she wanted, because velvet and satin can’t replace seeing Chuck smile. She pushes up the mask and turns to him, slips her fingers between his and squeezes hard.
He glances up from the file he’s reading and presses his mouth to her knuckles, his lips soft and warm against her skin. She smiles, secure in her decision, but his smile never reaches his eyes. They’re dark and calculating, watching her but thinking of everything else: his father, his uncle, vengeance, revenge.
She tugs her hand away and pulls the mask back down, disappears into the waiting blackness.
In the dark, it’s easier to forget that saving Chuck meant giving him all she had left.
---
III. I’m not calling you a ghost, just stop haunting me…
---
Blair was blindfolded the first time she and Chuck had sex.
There were scarves at her wrists and ankles binding her tight, keeping her in her place.
Chuck’s touch was gentle, his fingers brushing feather light over her skin, his tongue trailing wetly over the curve of her hip. She’d arched against her restraints and Chuck’s grip had tightened; she’d writhed and he had slid between her thighs.
His body had felt strange, softer and rounder, and she couldn’t quite spread her legs wide enough for him to fit until he loosened the straps at her ankles and she’d drawn her knees up to let him in.
He’d felt the same and different, the way he’d fit inside her and knew just where to touch or where to press his mouth. He’d moved slowly then quickly, varied his pace so her breath caught in her lungs and he could whisper his love against the column o f her throat.
She’d been close, so exquisitely close, when the memory had flashed through her mind, unwanted but unavoidable.
It was morning, one of those bright, brilliant days where the sun highlighted every bristle of stubble coating Dan’s jaw and she was terrified of how well-magnified her pores probably were, but none of it really mattered because she’d been sitting in Dan’s lap, ankles locked tight around his back, knees firmly pressed against the straight line of his waist.
She’d moved her hips slightly, just the barest fraction of an inch, smiling at the groan that escaped his mouth, the way he’d swelled inside her and his fingers had tightened on her hips.
Mostly, she’d been staring into his eyes, dark and warm and shimmering with feelings she wasn’t ready for, and then she was drowning in those eyes, drowning, drowning, drowning…
She’d still been shuddering when Chuck untied the blindfold and she’d opened her eyes to blink at the beam of moonlight slipping through a crack in the curtains. Chuck had been sprawled atop of her, his sweaty hair tickling her neck. With her wrists still bound, she’d still managed to smile at him even as she lost feeling in her hands.
“It’s as good as I remembered,” Chuck had whispered, finally loosening all the scarves. He’d rolled to his side and taken her with him, pressed his chest against her back while cradling her in his arms.
He’d told her again that he loved her, needed her more than ever, but it had been hard to concentrate on his promises when her fingers had tingled with a thousand pins and needles.
But really, she’d been grateful for the distraction.
It hadn’t been Chuck’s dark eyes that had made her fly.
---
IV. There’s a ghost in my lungs…
---
They run into Dan in Milan.
He’s doing research, Chuck is buying her yet another dress, but the encounter is no less awkward.
Europe has been good to Dan Humphrey. His hair is shorter, his pants tighter, his skin a shade darker, but it’s his eyes that Blair doesn’t recognize: dark, deep, haunted, lost.
She did that, she knows she did, and she’s grateful for Chuck’s arm around her waist because she feels a bit faint.
Dan sighs heavily as they approach and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I should have known there’s no place I could go where you wouldn’t find me.”
Chuck smirks but Blair stares, tries to figure out what to say. He told her that he loved her and she ended their relationship without a word of goodbye. There’s no Emily Post quick-fix for a mess like this.
“Can we get coffee?” she finally says only to be met with another sigh.
She nudges Chuck and his arm slips from her waist. “I have a call,” he announces and kisses her goodbye. He’s not the Chuck of old and it’s just a brush of his mouth over hers, but Dan is still staring at his shoes when Chuck pulls away.
They stand in place, staring at each other, until he sighs yet again. “Come on,” he says. “I know a place.”
He orders them espresso and she grimaces as she takes a sip. It’s harsh and bitter, not unlike the way Dan’s looking at her. “What do you want, Blair?” he asks. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, just spins her coffee cup around on its saucer and watches him watch her. The longer she stares, the more sadness seeps into his gaze until he runs a hand over his eyes and sighs louder than before. “Blair, I can’t do this anymore.” He reaches for his wallet but she’s faster and her fingers are locking around his wrist before he can dig into his pocket.
They both freeze, turn their attention to the pale fingers resting on the tanned skin of his forearm. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. His skin is warm against hers and she resists the urge to turn his wrist, press her fingers to the jumping pulse in his wrist, feel the heart that once only beat for her.
Dan flinches but doesn’t pull away, just stares at the spot where her skin melts into his. “You didn’t even say goodbye,” he finally says. “It was one thing to run to Chuck, but…I deserved a goodbye. I deserved to know what went wrong.” He jerks his wrist away and folds his arms over his chest. The sadness is gone from his eyes to be replaced with a bright, burning blaze.
“I…” she starts but can’t put the truth into words: I got the chance to be strong but was too scared. It was too much without you.
He shakes his head in disgust. “Well, I’m glad we could have this conversation.” This time, when he reaches for his wallet she doesn’t stop him. He throws down a few bills and starts to walk away but turns back before he gets far. She’s not surprised; she’s always been the one to leave him behind. “It didn’t work, you know.”
“Dan,” she replies. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You tried to make me into him,” he says and this time she’s the one to flinch. “I cheated on you with Serena,” he tells her. “I wrote a book exposing you all for what you truly are. It’s sitting on my flashdrive and Alessandra emails me about it every day. I’ve attached the manuscript so many times but every time my finger hovers over the send button I just can’t do it.”
“Why?”
He reaches over and brushes her hair back from her face and for a moment he’s so close she thinks he might kiss her. She even tilts her chin up a bit, waits for the feel of his mouth on hers. He steps back instead, smiles sadly as he clasps his hands behind his back. “I know you love Chuck more than you could ever love me, but despite my best efforts, my feelings haven’t changed. I only want you to be happy even if it’s not with me.”
He turns on his heel before she can respond, leaves her behind with cold coffee and the lingering weight of regret.
It’s not about loving Chuck too much. It’s about not loving herself enough.
---
V. I love you so much I’m gonna let you…
---
Blair leaves in Moscow.
Chuck is already watching the roulette wheel spin and she’s supposed to meet him downstairs.
Her dress is purple tonight, long and full, with thin straps and sparkle woven into the flowing skirt. She tugs on the zipper but it’s stuck and the more she tugs, the more the jeweled straps dig into her shoulders.
She glances at herself in the mirror and catches the wink of the diamonds at her throat, the glimmer of the amethysts in her hair.
Before she knows what she’s doing, the dress is in shreds in her hands and she’s calling her mother and begging for a second chance.
Her bags are packed and her ticket booked when a valet fetches Chuck. His brow is knotted in concern, but his eyes are imagining odds and evens falling on red and black.
“Blair, what’s wrong?” he asks, stops short when he notices the suitcases and traveling dress she’s wearing. “Where are you going?”
She wraps her arms tight around her middle, keeps it together while she ends it all. “I’m going home.”
Chuck’s eyes flash and his mouth twists. “This is about Humphrey, isn’t it?”
She flinches because he’s not wrong. Her entire life has been about drifting one from man’s dreams to another’s. There’s no reason to think she’s not continuing the pattern. “More like 119th and Broadway.”
“I don’t understand.”
She feels a bit more confident and drops her hands to her sides. “I’m going to run Waldorf Designs, but not just yet. I need to finish college first, get experience, understand what a business is all about.”
Chuck takes a step forward, wraps her hands in his. “School doesn’t start until September and I need you here.”
She tugs her hands away and clasps them behind her back. If he keeps touching her, she’ll never be able to walk away. “I should never have come. This is your dream, Chuck, but it’s not mine.”
“I never asked you to come,” he reminds her.
She nods, even manages a smile. “That’s something else I need to work on. I can’t keep taking care of other people until I can take care of myself.”
“What can I do to make you stay?”
Blair is the one to walk forward, kiss him lightly on the cheek before she leaves him behind. “You can love me enough to let me go.”
He kisses her, hard and desperate, like they’re still sixteen. It’s not until he pulls away, eyes dark and wet, that she realizes she still is.
No matter the passage of time, she’s still the girl who lets men choose her dreams.
---
VI. Go on…
---
Blair texts Dan on the tarmac.
“I couldn’t love you until I loved myself.”
There’s a reply waiting when the plane lands.
“You’ll be surprised to find how easy you are to love.”
She laughs and decides it’s time to prove him right.
~ * ~
Writers live for feedback - please leave some if you have the time.